The Mocking Bird
by minuu-chan
Summary: A routine investigation on two gruesome murders takes a turn for the worst as the murderer targets Tim, revealing the youngest agent's dark and brutal past.
1. The butterflies died in your stomach

Tim rubbed his eyes and stifled a yawn as he clicked open the window to his email, checking for anything new.

"Aw, did Probie have a rough night", a voice teased from behind. " Who was the lucky girl?"

Tim minimized the window he was looking at with a click, and then opened his drawer, taking out a packet of paper.

"Not a girl Tony, I just stayed up late trying to get ahead of my new book" Tim said and started scribbling on the packet.

"So how did she look like? Blond? Brunette? Red head?", Tony rattled off as if Tim hadn't replied, " A geek too right? Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying you can't get a girl above the geek status, but the girls you keep bringing in—well , yea."

The junior agent rolled his eyes and stopped writing "Just because you spend your nights picking up anything that breath and wears a skirt, doesn't mean all guys do Tony."

"Ouch. Judging by your snappy attitude, I'd say it was a one night stand", Tony swirled McGee's chair to face him, " You must of been wild and drove her away, McBeasty… or was it the other way around?"

The pen Tim held twitched, begging to be torpedoed into the empty head of the senior agent. But something else beat him to it as Tony suddenly yelped in surprise.

"Morning Boss!" Tony saluted.

Gibbs gracefully strode to his desk and pulled out his SIG from the drawer in one fluid motion.

"Gear up—" he said as he grabbed his jacket, "Body of a petty officer found this morning…"

Both Tony and Tim looked up from the sudden pause, while they were of pulling their own SIGs from their desk.

"Where's David?" , Gibbs glared at both of them for answers

"Uh…uh…well she…" Tim started.

"Dinozzo!" the leader bit out impatiently

"Yes boss! Ziva she…well she was… Ziva is…" Tony opened his mouth but said nothing for a moment, " Ah…I don't know where she is boss…"

The silver lion growled and quickly moved his way towards the elevator, as the other two scrambled behind him.

Tony and Tim looked at each other with a questioning look as the elevator door closed.

Where was she?

***NCIS***

Tim cocked his head with a squint. How did they do that—no why would one do that. His senior crouched next to him, bearing the same expression.

"Ouch… "Tony mutter and took a quick flash with his camera. Ouch indeed.

The massacred body of a petty officer leaned against the bloody splattered wall, legs missing from the thigh down. The torso was torn open, exposing the ribs which were forcible pulled apart. In the cavity of the torso, where the organs were suppose to be, sat only a single heart. A mask with a crude smile painted on, nestled on the body's face with lines of dried blood running down the center. Tim took a quick picture and took off the mask. Several slivers of blood strung out as he pulled the mask and quickly regretted doing so. The skin and muscle of the face were pulled back, exposing the skeletal structure of the face. The eyes were left unharmed, but they were slightly unfocused, hanging a out of its sockets. He took another picture and stepped back. His eyes widened from shock to see the random blood splatters were butterfly wings artistically painted on the wall.

Amazing what people can do.

Suddenly the front door slammed open, presenting a rather flustered mossad ninja. Gibbs, stood in front of the door, was slightly taken back as it nearly smacked his face.

"—I'm sorry I am late, there was a fire in my kitchen", Ziva started, " the egg suddenly bursted into flames and made me knock over the cooking oil, and made the fire worse. I tried putting it out, but I threw orange juice over it instead of water, so—

"You're late" Gibbs growled

"It won't happen again…" she muttered and scampered off to aid with the crime scene.

Tim watched Tony saunter next to Ziva, who started collecting evidence in another room and began to probe her with question. He smiled, shaking his head and then turned back to the massacred body and took another picture.

Suddenly, the room the bickering agents occupied, grew quite.

"Guys, you've gotta see this!", Tony hollered with uneasiness in his voice.

Gibbs and Tim entered the other room and found the other two agents no where to be seen, until Tony's head popped out from the side of the door on the opposite end of the room.

"Over here."

The two agents entered through the door and found themselves in another blood splattered room, but the only difference was that there was a message left behind written in blood.

"Conrad…Neal" Ziva read, then turned to the other three, " Maybe it is the killers name?"

"-Or maybe it's a message to someone else…" Gibbs pitched in.

"Ya know, this kinda reminds me of this movie I saw", tony started, " It was about this freaky dude who wrote the name of the person who he was going to kill in blood, over the massacred body's of their loved ones."

"But the ending was a total let down, because the killer and the victim made up. Then it was all rainbows and fluffy bunnies from there…" he shuddered, " I couldn't watch it anymore..."

While the others continued to banter off ideas, they took no notice of their junior agent, who kept silent in the background.

***NCIS ***

A sickening squelch echoed in the dark room, followed by a soft laugh. A man stood over the pile of red and pink flesh, still retaining the shape of the human anatomy.

The man stuck his hand in the pile and pulled out a long fleshy lining, presumably the digestive tract. He then paused, "Ahh…do you hear that?", the man spoke to the chunk of flesh, " The mocking bird is starting to sing"

He picked up the dismembered head that sat a couple feet away from the body and held it close to his face, "Such a quiet song it sings, such a mocking song it sings…" the man nuzzled the head and continued, " But that's ok, because it lost its wings.

The man brought out a pocket knife which glistened maliciously from the moonlight that shun through the window. He began to sink the blade through the fleshy part of the head's ear and murmured softly:

_Oh mocking bird, where have you gone?_

_Oh mocking bird, what have you done?_

_Oh mocking bird, what have you seen?_

The blade sliced all the way through the cartilage, and the ear dropped to the floor.

_You fly so high, but hate bit you wings,_

_You sing that song, _

_That mocking song,_

_But I hear you now, oh mocking bird, _

_That song you never seize to sing._

He started to slice the second ear, but this time with more vigor.

_Oh mocking bird, where have you gone?_

_Oh mocking bird, what have you done?_

_Oh mocking bird, what have you seen?_

_Oh mocking bird, what will you do..._

The blade dug deeper into the flesh, into the side of the skull until the ear plopped onto the floor, partially attached to a chunk of scalp and hair.

_When I know it's you?_

He dropped the head onto the floor and picked up the ears, pulling out a set of two rusty nails. The man pierced the fleshy remains with the nails and then stuck them onto the wall. He stepped back to marvel his work; The inner entrails of the massacred body were randomly nailed onto the wall, slightly dripping with blood. And now with the new addition of the nailed ears, the man looked satisfied.

_Oh mocking bird, what will you do…_

The man's lips peeled back, revealing a twisted smile as he gazed above the flesh and blood covered wall. Two words were written in blood:

Timothy McGee.

_When I come for you?_

Tbc.


	2. The name of justice bleeds

For the next few days, the team investigated the murder of Petty officer Jefferson Casey , and found no further leads from what they found. The bullpen grew tenser as days flew by, and Gibbs became more irritated and lashed out more than he usually did.

"Oh man.", Tony groaned, " There's nothing on this guy!"

He stood up and threw his arms up in frustration, " What the hell did he do to get himself killed like that?"

Ziva stood up and walked towards the plasma, as the other two followed suite, " Let us see what we have gotten so far."

She pulled out a clicker and brought up a picture of the petty officer , " So far we know that Jefferson Casey was a well liked man among his people, he was to retire in three months…."

"He was a little goody two-shoes, with no criminal record" Tony continued, " He was single, lived alone in an apartment, which I must say—he had good taste."

Three close up shot of the petty officer appeared on the screen, " And he was last seen in Marlin Street on Friday, " Tim pointed towards the pictures, "caught here on bank's security camera, which leaves us with…"

"The name that was written on the wall, Conrad Neal…." Tony finished and noticed Tim frown slightly, but as quickly as it appeared, it disappeared. He mentally shrugged and didn't think too much of it.

" Conrad Neal is a Russian name" Ziva stated, " I have ran his name through the FBI and Interpol, but his files were locked. "

"So we've basically got nothing.", Tony wailed " Gibbs is so gonna have our ass's when he finds out—"

"Finds out what Tony?", Gibbs asked, as he strode into the bullpen looking very…well, no word could have describe what the boss man was expressing , but it wasn't pretty.

"Uhhh…." Tony started with his panic stricken eyes, " Uhh…McGee! Tell the man what we've got!"

Tim stiffened and adopted the same look that Tony had, as the lion turned it's attention to him.

"Uh…w-we found that Jefferson Casey was seen in Marlin street on Friday-" Tim caught Gibb's dead-pan and look, " B-but you already knew that…"

"We put the name found in the other through the FBI and Interpol's criminal statistics, but we were denied access to the files…"

Gibbs waited.

"And…that's all we've got…." Tim murmured, then cringed for the explosion to come.

The coffee cup Gibbs held crushed around Gibbs iron grip. Ziva and Tony quickly ducked under the desk, taking cover. Tim would of found their reaction hilarious, but see how he was going to be he one chastised, it wasn't a bad Idea.

Then it came.

"So…WE'VE GOT NOTHING?" Gibbs boomed.

Tim winced and hesitantly added on, "I-If we could have access to the files, we might be able to find something."

"Then get it."

"Well…." Tim started, "we can't…"

"Why not?" Gibbs growled

"Like I said before, we were denied access to the files." Tim replied

"Then figure it out by 1200",Gibbs gritted out.

"But that's only an hour, its not enough time to-"

Gibbs walked over to Tim's desk and leaned forward.

"One hour."

With that, Gibbs strode towards the elevator without another word.

A second after the elevator door closed, Tony hesitantly, poked his head out from under the desk, "Is it clear McGee?"

Tim sighed and sank into his chair," Yeah Tony, it's clear."

***NCIS***

Some where far away a man stood in a dim lit room where nothing but a broken, flicker light lit the stale room. Suddenly, the sound of the door knob turning echoed throughout he room. This caused the man to slightly draw the gun out of it's holster which rested against his left hip. The door open, revealing a young lady with her hands in the air.

"Whoa, it's me!"

The man sighed a he slipped the gun back into the holster," Did you send out the message?"

"Yeah, but it doesn't matter now." She replied bitterly

"What do you mean?"

"There was a security breach…."

"How bad?"

"Red."

"Does he know his—"

"Yeah, he knows."

"Everything?"

"Everything."

The man ran his fingers through his hair and let a tired sigh escape through his lips.

"Shit…how?"

"I'm not quite sure how he found out, but judging by what he left behind, I'd say he want to make him suffer and die slowly. The other two were just a warm up."

"Notify him; tell him his cover has been breached."

The young lady gave her counterpart a wary stare "He loves his current life…you do know what's going to happen right?"

"I sure as hell do, but his life is more important. Besides, he won't have a life either way if _they _find him."

"But I don't want him to go back like he was before!"

"Well, we have to risk that! Hurry up and notify him."

The young lady turned her head away and crossed her arms,"….fine."

****NCIS****

BEEP!

BEEEEEP!

BEEEEEEEEEP!

BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP-!

"TONY!" Ziva snapped, " Stop, just stop!"

"I can't Zee-va, I'm trying to do my job "Tony poked the keyboard once more, " But actually, this is McGeek's job. Why am I doing this?"

Tony turned to Tim and pointed dramatically, " Probie, do your techno-geeky-thingy, and make this work."

"You're not the only one trying to do their job, Tony—"

"Techno-geeky-thingy!"

"Ton—"

"NOW."

Tim rolled his eye and trudged over to his desk and scanned the computer.

"I don't know Tony, this is some pretty advanced stuff." He said with a troubled face.

"Can you fix it?"

"Yup."

"Then do it."

Tim took the keyboard and clicked away.

"Ok, done."

"That's it? You just pressed a couple of buttons. What did you do?"

Tim smirked, "Control, alt, delete."

"You said it was some advanced stuff!"

"Advanced in your terms"

Ziva giggled and turned her attention back to her computer.

The senior agent glared at him, "Haha, very funny McSmartass."

Tim retreated back to his desk and sat down in his chair with a satisfied smile.

Suddenly, his phone vibrated. He flipped the phone open, and just as he finished reading what was on the screen, the elevator and stair doors bursted open, spilling dozens of armed men into the bullpen.

"FBI, HANDS IN THE AIR!" couple of them yelled.

The trio automatically did what they were told.

The elevator opened once more, presenting Gibbs who strolled out, but stopped dead in his tracks from what he saw.

"What the hell is going on?" He demanded.

"Dunno boss, they just came out of no where, like a flash flood" Tony replied.

Before he could say anything else, a familiar voice called out " Gibbs."

He turned to see a man about the same age as him emerge form the crowd of guns.

"Fornell?" Gibbs growled, " Mind telling me why your men are point their guns at MY team?"

His friend shot him an apologetic look, and then turned back his attention to his target.

"You are here by under arrest for treason", Fornell declared.

Gibbs followed Fornell's line of sight, and his eyes automatically widened in shock from who he was looking at.

"McGee?"

Tbc.


	3. Whose eyes are those?

This longer than the other chapters, enjoy!

EDIT: Its late, I'm sleepy, so it'd bound to have some mistakes. I'll fix it up later okie?

He hated boxes. Always despised the shape and the isolation it provided. It reminded him of _them_. The countless nights, days, weeks, months and maybe years. God only knew how long they kept him _there _and what they did—NO. No more. He didn't want to bring up unwanted memories.

But here he was, in the box he hated so much. Waiting.

He studied the metallic sheen of the table he had been staring at for the past few hours. It never occurred to him how banged up the interrogation table was until now. That entire fist slamming Gibbs did to startle the suspects really has taken a toll on it. Then again, he never took the time to study the table, since he only came into this…box… when he had a suspect to interrogate. Until now that is.

He heard the door open, but didn't bother acknowledging his guest.

For a metal table, it was surprisingly warm.

The chair in front of him screeched as the guest pulled it out. Another screech followed as the person scooted in.

He really should find out who made the table. It was nice and warm.

"You do know why you are here, correct?" the guest asked.

Nice design, texture wise…well it is pretty banged up. Probably started out smooth. Smooth it is. Sturdy too. But wait…where was he going to put—

"-found these pictures on the data base from running your name." The man placed two photos on the table and pushed it forward, " Do they look familiar to you?"

There was that painfully noticeable gap he had in the living room corner. He could really use it to place his extra CD's he accumulated over the years. Oh that's right, he forgot to give that Suicide Commando CD his friend lent him a month ago. He had to admit, it was pretty intense. Intense in a good way. His neighbor's once—

SLAM!

The table shook slightly as the man in front of him stood up and leaned forward.

He felt his ear tickle from the other man's breath.

"LOOK at these photos." The man ordered harshly into his ear, " Do they look familiar to you?"

He slowly tore his eyes away from the metallic table and stared at the two photos.

"Do you know who they are?" the interrogator asked.

He continued to stare impassively, betraying no emotion. Not that he felt any at the moment.

" Well, _I _sure do." the man said and pointed to the first picture, " His name is Timothy McGee. He is a special agent who works for the U.S. Naval Criminal Investigative service."

"This man here—" his interrogator pointed to the second picture, " His name is Conrad Neal, a notorious, cold blooded Russian spy. He _unfortunately_ got caught in a surprise bombing. Seeing how the bomb incinerated anything of a 2 mile radius, he was declared deceased."

The man leaned closer."Do you know who they are?"

He really wanted to ignore the seething man before him, but the photos…the photos wouldn't let him. He stared into the deep green eyes which the two pictures shared; one was bright and innocent and the other was cold and empty. But they were the same eyes. The same eyes he saw everyday in the mirror.

They were photos of himself.

***NCIS***

***3 hours earlier….**

"—Haha, very funny McSmartass" Tony huffed and turned back to his computer.

Tim smiled as he leaned back into his chair. He loved his job; the bantering between him and Tony and the Gibb slap made it all the better. Suddenly his pocket vibrated. He took out his phone and checked the caller ID, but no name appeared. He flipped it open and saw a text message. There was nothing written, but that wasn't what made his heart stop. It was the phone number.

That number, that horrible number, the number he feverishly hoped he never had see—ever in his life. Before he could do anything, a flood of FBI agents filled the bull pen, pointing their god awful, lethal looking guns.

His eyes darted toward the exists, but no prevail; all the exists were blockaded by an ocean of guns. Guns, guns, guns, guns, every where.

Damn.

Did they know? Did they find out his past _activities_? Then again the guns weren't particularly aimed only at him, it was pointed towards the others as well.

But pleasant thoughts proved wrong as Fornell emerged from the crowd and strode towards him. Tim's heart rate skyrocketed as he watched the man in front of him grew closer in slow motion. Every step Fornell took, every step he lifted, it brought him closer Tim. Tim saw the man's judgmental cold eyes, those same eyes that were saved for the criminals. Those same eyes were laid upon him.

He watched the man of Justice as he spoke the words of judgment escape his lips:

"You are here by arrested for treason."

The air stilled immediately. No words, No gasps and not even the clicks of guns were heard. Only the heavy silence.

That moment, the world stopped.

When the world plunged into silence, only one thought rang in Tim's mind:

THEY KNOW.

The spell of deathly silence that suffocated him was broken as a familiar name sliced though the air.

"McGee?"

He didn't need to turn to see who called his name. For the six years of working under the man he looked up too, he knew who the voice belong to. But he wasn't to sure anymore, because his name was called with such confusion and shock, something he never heard accompanying his name, something he never EVER heard to be exact.

He felt the older man's glare boring into the side of his face.

No, he didn't want to see, he didn't want to see his eyes.

Those all knowing eyes.

"McGee!" The familiar scorning tone of his boss's voice resurfaced, " What the hell does he mean?"

"Gibbs-" Fornell started, " He's dangero-"

"The hell he is!", Gibbs lashed "He's not going any where"

"Well he needs to be interrogated for treason."

"What would that be?"

"It's classified"

"Does this have to do with him hacking the FBI?" Gibbs growled, "Because it was me who ordered him to do it."

"No Gibbs-"

"THEN WHAT?"

"DAMMIT JETHRO!" Fornell snapped," DO YOU THINK I'M HAPPY DOING THIS?"

"THEN TELL ME WHY, GODDAMMIT!" Gibbs roared.

The deathly silence reclaimed its place once more.

The two locked their eyes in a telepathic tussle for a few more second, until Gibbs motioned his head towards the elevator without breaking off his glare.

His friend did the same as he then barked, " Don't let agent McGee move an inch from where he stands."

The commanding leader of the troop slipped a little "Yes sir" and kept his eyes of Tim with a god holy concentration, finger ready to pull the trigger at any given moment.

The two monstrous titans quickly strode into the elevator, implying the bloody battle that would occur in the puny box.

As the doors closed, Fornell harshly sighed, getting his emotions under control, and then lean closer to Gibbs.

"Look Jethro" He whisper quivered from his stirring emotions, " It kills me to arrest the kid, but the blaring evidence prevents me to not to."

Gibbs flicked off the on switch and then leaned in as well, " What evidence-and don't give me that classified BS."

Another frustrated sigh escaped his friend's lips, " It has to do with the Jefferson Casey case"

Gibbs would have found that last part humorous, but he had other things to worry about.

"Yeah, what about it?"

"He's involved. Another body was found last night with _his_ name written on the wall."

Gibbs gave him an analytical stare, "But that isn't all of it… is it?"

Fornell looked away, " Yes… but that is all I can say—until he is interrogated."

"He's not going any where"

"Jethro-"

"Interrogate him here."

Fornell gave him a good, long hard look, then sighed, " Fine."

With that, Gibbs flicked the switch back on. They both slipped on a dangerous scowl, making sure the others thought they battled long and hard.

The two strode out in unison and navigated their way through the guns point in mind air. One shove of a gunmen's shoulder could send off a shot; It was like dancing their way through a mine field.

"McGee, Interrogation room." Gibbs ordered as he passed the frozen trio and headed towards the room.

Tim kept his eyes straight, looking at nothing particularly.

But those questioning eyes he felt from his colleagues were unbearable. Well, there was an upside to this, Tony hasn't spoken for that past five minute. Then again, if half the FBI came crashing through the door and pointed a gun a him, he would have kept silent too.

****NCIS****

Behind the two-way mirror was silent, silent like the grave, one might say.

Tony leaned against the wall, arm crossed, with confusion swimming in his eyes.

"Boss…" Tony whispered without looking away from his probie, " You don't think…"

"Think what, Dinozzo?"

He turned to his boss, " I mean this is McGee we're talking about; the baby- faced geek, the over grown boy scout. He wouldn't do something-no, he can't do anything to betray our country… betray _US_. He's-he's-he's-!"

Tony found him self fall silent, failing to find an answer.

"There must another explanation" Ziva started softly, " He could have been framed like before, yes?"

Tony pointed out bitterly, "Yeah, but he never had half the FBI pointing a gun at his face before, now did he?"

"First time for every thing?" Ziva suggested.

The three heard the door open and quickly turned to see agent Kayler walk into the interrogation room. He brought out the chair in front of Tim, which was followed by an ear piercing screech. Kayler settled himself down and observed the young man before him. The young man was pressing half of his face against the metal table, staring intently at it.

"You do know why you are here, correct?" Kayler started.

"…."

" Well, we went though the files….."

Gibbs didn't hear the rest of what Kayler said, but continued to watch his youngest agent. The young man's eyes were deep and hollow, something he never expected to see occupy the green, innocent like eyes. But it as there. It made him feel lost, not really scared, but something like the feeling of dread. He only felt that when he didn't know something, and he didn't know who those eyes belonged to. It wasn't McGee; he was looking at a stranger.

NO. No, he wouldn't dare to think that McGee was involved in the two murders. Like Tony said, Tim wasn't capable of doing such a thing. The only damage Tim could have inflicted, would probably be a pinch to a leg, or an arm. The young probie wasn't good at handling guns, so shooting someone would be out of the question. So what the hell did he do to piss the FBI off?

"-found these pictures on the data base from running your name" Gibbs saw Kayler slip out two photos and placed them in front of Tim. "Do they look familiar?"

The young agent continued to stare at the table, lost in his own little world and didn't acknowledge the photos.

SLAM!

Agent Kayler leaned forward with an agitated face.

"LOOK at these photos." He ordered harshly into Tim's ear, " Do they look familiar to you?"

Gibbs saw something flicker in Tim's eyes, but only slightly

" Well, _I _sure do." The interrogator said and pointed to the first picture, " His name is Timothy McGee. He is special agent who works for the U.S. Naval Criminal Investigative service."

Tony's eyebrows knitted in confusion, " Why the heck is Kayler asking McGee to identify his own photo?"

"This man here—" Kayler pointed to the second picture, " His name is Conrad Neal, a notorious, cold blooded Russian spy. He _unfortunately_ got caught in a surprise bombing. Seeing how the bomb incinerated anything of a 2 mile radius, he was declared deceased."

Ziva's eyes lit of in recognition, " That is the name we found above Casey's body, yes? What would a deceased spy have to do with McGee?"

Her eyes narrowed, " He couldn't have been selling highly classify information…could he? I mean, McGee is good with computers and hacked…."

Kayler leaned closer leaned closer,"Do you know who they are?"

Tim sat, staring at the two photos before him.

Gibbs saw a flicker of recognition in Tim's eyes. He felt his guts wrench;. Something was wrong, something was very wrong. His guts told him something, something he didn't want to assume. His subconscious screamed at him to look, to stop looking away.

He watched Tim's lips slowly part.

"_No._", Gibbs thought

Mcgee held his mouth slightly apart, "Its-"

Gibb's eyes started to widen_**, **__"NO!"_

"-me."

Behind the two-way mirror, the air stilled.

Ziva and Tony, who were bickering about their youngest member, halted in mid sentence.

"So…", Kayler said, going in for the kill, " These two photos are the photos of you, correct?"

"That's right." Tim said with a little nod.

"You are saying that you are both agent McGee—" Kayler pointed at the second picture, " AND Conrad Neal?"

Another nod.

" You know, I think I might of seen those names some where before...", The interrogator took out another folder and shifted thought the papers, " Ah, that's right!"

He spread a couple of photos in front of Tim.

"Looky here!", Kayler pointed out two photography's, " There's Conrad Neal AND Timothy McGee, written in blood."

"Two different murders with two names." He continued, " Interesting , huh?"

Tim gave nothing away, but continued to blankly stare.

"So, where were you on Friday at 2300?" Kayler inquired

"Home, working on my next book."

"Can anybody back that up?"

"No."

"How about on Sunday at 0100, where were you then?"

"The same; I was at home working on my book."

"Can anybody back that up?"

"No."

Kayler leaned back into his chair with a grim smiled. "No one can support you alibi during the events of these murders. Do you know what these blaring evidences conclude to?"

The young agent continued to stare.

"The evidence concludes that not only are you a murderer—" Agent Kayler slammed his hands onto the table, "But you are an enemy to this country as well."


	4. Peeling the skin

I know it's confusing, but stay with me, because it's going to be a bumpy ride.

_Pain. _

_So much pain._

_Can't breath…hurts….._

_Cold…so cold…_

_Please no more._

_Stop._

"_Do it."_

_It hurts…._

"_Don't you want the pain to stop?"_

_YES!_

"_Then do it."_

…_._

"_Do it."_

…_._

"_DO IT."_

_Do what?_

…_._

…_._

"_Kill him."_

****NCIS****

" I would like to speak to Agent Gibbs."

Agent Kayler paused, taken back from the out of the blue request," Why is that? Is there something you don't want to tell me?"

Tim looked towards the glass window, which he presumed his boss was behind with his colleagues. Without warning, Gibbs came through the door with the same expression he had a couple minutes ago.

"Agent Gibbs I am not finished—"

"I'm taking over."

Before Kayler could utter another word, Gibbs shot him his trade mark glare, the glare that brought even the toughest men to their knees, quivering in fear. Gibbs wasn't in his best moods, so mercy was out of the question. It wasn't going to be a good day for the FBI's interrogator.

The glare worked, it worked too well, for the agent went stock still in fear, to fearful to scurry away like the luckier ones.

"Move."

After gaping for a couple more seconds, he scrabbled towards the door, except he was stopped again.

"Leave the files."

"I—"

"LEAVE the files"

Kayler practically threw the files on the table as if it was on fire, and then fled the scene with his tail tucked behind his legs.

Gibbs settled himself down across his young agent. He then leaned forward, dropping his irritated look , " Tim, what is going?"

Right as those words left his mouth, Tim visibly relaxed from his stiff posture, familiarity returning to his once cold eyes. But his eyes avoided the older man's gaze, fidgeting slightly in his seat.

Gibb's eyes softened and used the same as he did with his daughter, "Tim…"

The young agent bit his bottom lips then finally looked up to his boss's eyes.

"Boss…" he whispered "I-I….I can't….not here."

"Why? Is there—"

Tim leaned back, running his fingers though his hair. "Not here. Not…here. Some where private… like the autopsy room."

Gibbs nodded, and then turned to the window, sending a telepathic message to the two observers.

***NCIS***

Tim paced back and forth across the floor, his anxiety oozing from his every being. Tony and Ziva watched the fidgety agent in curiosity, and slightly confused by the sudden change of demeanor.

Gibbs finally came down into the autopsy room, locking the door behind him.

"Alright McGee." Gibbs said, " Explain."

Tim closed his eyes, and then opened them, replacing the insecure and fidgetiness that swam in his eyes, with a look of total concentration and seriousness. But he couldn't suppress the wariness he felt, which softened the intensity of his gaze.

"First, Yes, I am—was a Russian operative, a spy to be more specific." He studied the shock ridden Tony and Ziva, and the grim faced Gibbs.

"You're kidding right? I mean you, a Russian spy?" Tony started, " No offence probie, but that's kind of hard to believe. For one, you do NOT look like a Russian, and two, you don't have that spy vibe."

Ziva and Gibbs gave him a questioning look.

"You know, the vibe spies give, kinda like a cat, they creep around silently; Like Ziva here, she is like a sly kitty cat; she can fool people with her looks, but can kill with those nasty claws. And you my probalicious friend, you do NOT have that vibe."

Tim slipped out the two photo s Agent Kayler presented him before.

As Tony scanned the two picture, he began to silently gape like a fish, the same quirky action Tim did, when he couldn't find any information on the case they were working to Gibbs, to a very angry, coffee-less Gibbs.

The first picture was of Tim, all Timmy, innocent smile and perfectly groomed. The second picture was of a slim man with short and slightly spiked, black/brown colored hair. His skin was disturbingly pallid with dark circles hanging under his eyes, emphasizing his small face. The man's eyes were grey, dull , cold, and dead. And if Tony didn't know the man he was looking at was actually standing in front of him, he would have thought that he was looking at dead man on an autopsy table. But what shocked him the most, was that the Timmy he knew could actually bear such an expression, the expression which held bitterness and pain. Tony pleaded his eyes to trick him, change what he saw, but the blaring similarities between the two photos showed. This man was indeed Timothy McGee.

Gibbs stepped forward, " Was this an undercover assigned by Vance?"

"No."

"FBI?"

"Uh, did you see what happened in the bullpen?"

"Point taken…so you're actually a spy—a spy, spy."

"Yes."

Silence….

Seeing that no one else would speak, so Ziva went ahead, " What exactly was your mission?"

Tony gave her a disbelieving look, " D-do you seriously believe him?"

"Yes, I do. I can tell by the way he walks." Tony gave her a questioning look, asking her to elaborate,

" The way one walks tells many things of oneself. You Tony, tread heavily, but bounce a tad bit as you lift your heels. Your heavy steps tells me that you tend to stomp out your emotions, emotions which you think is a sign of weakness, and the bounce, well the bounce is your immaturity, a façade. The long strides you take also shows that you like to keep people at arms length and never close to your true feelings, the long stride can also be interpreted as running away."

Tony's face went blank, fingers slightly twitching uncomfortably, but quickly plastered on the Dinozzo trade mark smirk, but failed to speak.

Ziva turned her attention back to Tim, "I always did find the way you walk a little odd, McGee. I just assumed I was over thinking the matter, but I guess I was correct to be suspicious….You treaded silently like I, but I have a characteristic in my steps of myself, but you…there is nothing in your steps, like you are not there—invisible. That invisibility could come in handy in many ways…so, what exactly was you mission?"

"My mission was to gather classified intel, mainly security and military." Tim replied

"From whom exactly?"

"Germany and the U.S, but the government never had the chance to send me out to the U.S, since I did die from a…_surprise_ bombing."

Her eyes narrowed, " And what is it that you are doing, since you were declared…_deceased_?"

"Hiding."

"Explain?"

"That is something that he can not do." A new voice joined.

The trio turned to the intruder, but Tim didn't bother looking.

A young lady about the same age as Tim stood before them. She had long straight, dirty blond hair fluttering slightly over her slim figure, from the air conditioner blasting from behind. Her face was small and porcelain white, and the color of blossom pink stained her lips. The young lady had piercing cerulean blue eyes, deep and enigmatic. She wore black business attire which hugged her hips perfectly, emphasizing her curves. She wore matching high heels, which clacked lightly against the title floor, as she stepped forward.

"And who might you be?"Gibbs growled.

" That is none of your business.", before Gibbs could retort, she turned her attention towards the youngest agent, " Did you not get the warning?"

Tim frowned but did not turn to her, "No."

"Don't lie to me, you know better than that." She huffed, "Your phone was definitely on when I alerted you."

"I didn't hear it go off."

"You most definitely did, because I monitor who you call and text , as well as any call and texts you received. Your phone's function is under my control, even the volume. And besides… " she motioned her head towards Gibbs, " Isn't it one of his rules to be always reachable by phone?"

Tim's frown deepened.

The mysterious lady walked over to Tim, so he was facing her, " The warning was for you GET OUT, not reveal everything to your friends. You know what threat that would pose to you and the others-"

A dangerous look flashed across the young agent's eyes, "I can take care of myself."

She challenged his glare with equal intensity, " Indeed you can, but what will you do if _they_ find out about you…your friends? Remember what happened to—"

"Shut up." Tim hissed darkly.

The young lady stepped back as she saw his eyes take on a murderous level.

"I'm… sorry, I didn't mean to bring unwanted memories…."

Tim's eyes soften and sighed" It's fine…"

Gibbs stepped forward, " Mind explaining what's going on?"

The young lady turned to the older man and gave him an analytical look, and then turned to the young agent.

"Do you trust him…them?" she asked.

"Yes, I trust them."

"Are you su—"

"I trust them with my LIFE."

She leaned forward.

"But do they trust you?"

Tbc.


	5. Spiraling backwards

_Hey guys, Sorry for the long wait. I won't be posting as frequently anymore, seeing how school started. I will try to upload chapters when I have time, Buuut I will post random oneshots aside from this story, so watch for that :D_

_Enjoy._

_***NCIS***_

Do they trust you?

Those four words would have been easily replied by an affirmative, followed by: "How could you question our trust?", but when Tim turned to see his friend's eyes, the 'yes' in his throat died away.

He saw it.

Oh god, he saw it!

The indignant look in their eyes.

The confusion.

The suspicion.

Did they trust him?

He searched the elderly eyes across the room desperately, but was only met with a wall of icy blue. His insides grew cold as he continued to stare.

What did he do to deserve this?

Of course…

He lied to them.

He couldn't be trusted again….

=NCIS=

Some where in a fire lit basement, was young man suspended from the ground by a rope binding his wrists. The young man stirred, awaking from his forced slumber, blinking a few times, a bit disoriented. His eyes flew open as he noticed that he was hanging from the ground, then pulled and tugged, attempting to slip out of the binding.

An older man stepped out from the shadows and into the dim light

"You're awake….good, good."

The man walked up the younger one lightly tapped his cheek.

"You were being too noisy…"

The young man tried to speak, but strangely, his lips wouldn't open.

" I didn't want you to be asking to many question, so I had to shut you up" The man said , "I was going to use duck tape, but I ran out, so I used crazy glue…"

The young man's eyes widened as he continued to pry his mouth open.

"—lots of crazy glue…"

The older man slipped back into the shadows where the firelight failed to illuminate. In the shadow, the young man heard a slow high pitched squeaking. Few moments later, a metal cart emerged from the shadow, with the strange man attached to it. The cart held a steel tray of obscure, surgical looking knives and other things that was to sharp for comfort. Crust of red, black, and orange tainted the equipments, but the malicious luster of the sharp edges glittered hungrily.

"_There once was a little mocking bird with pretty green eyes…"_the man sang softly, then pulled out a miniature steel plate, " _The little mocking bird at first was a really sad sight…."_

"_With broken wings, it couldn't fly away...from the jealous beaks that stabbed at his eyes._"

The older man stepped closer to the hanging counterpart, then gently stroked the man's cheek adoringly. He grabbed the young man's chin and with his other hand, he placed his finger over the left eyelid.

"Such beautiful eyes you have", the man said softly, "You are indeed the prefect one…"

With a quick jab, the man's fingers slipped his thumb and index finger into the eye socket, trying to get a better hold.

The younger man tried to scream, but his sealed lips muffled it.

The older man's fingers were deep inside the sockets, to the point they almost touched on the other side of the retina. He began to pull his arm back as his fingers stayed attached to the eyeball.

Very slowly….

Slowly…

A muffled scream—_RIIIIPPP_

A scream.

"Oh my, I guess I didn't put enough crazy glue…", the man chuckled and then tossed bloody eyeball onto the plate.

The younger man gaped, top lip still attached to the bottom one. His need to scream, ripped his mouth away from his fleshy upper lips, releasing a shriek and a shower of blood.

The older man rummaged through the metal cart and pulled out the crazy glue.

"This time I'll make sure they stay attached."

The man snapped his prisoner's jaw shut forcefully, catching the tip of the tongue between the teeth. The pink fleshy tip plopped onto the floor, followed by a stream of blood. The young man jostled up, releasing a muffled cry. The older man quickly smothered the glue over the bloody mouth and then slapped his left hand over. He slipped his hand off after a minute, but the mouth flew open once more, spluttering out slivers of blood and glue.

The man wiped the mixed gunk off his face and smiled. "Oh well…"

With one eye streaming with tears and the other bloody and hollow, the young man watched in horror as the older man placed a hand on his remaining eye.

"Sorry, no duck tape."

***NCIS***

Gibbs saw his youngest agent stare at him with ever growing panic filled eyes, until something dark and hopeless smudge his brilliant emerald colored eyes. He felt his protective, in not parental side, stir in agitation from the distressed look of the young one.

What did that lady say to his agent?

He stepped forward and this time demanded, " Explain, Now."

The blond lady turned to him with a bank look and then gave him a smug look.

" I have a question for you Mr—"

"Gibbs, just Gibbs."

" Gibbs and you two in the back—David and Dinozzo.", she turned to the side and pointed towards Tim, "do you trust this man?"

Before the trio could answer, the lady interrupted, " Before you answer that, what if I told you that this man in front of you was actually a double agent and he was ordered to infiltrate the NCIS by the German government."

Tim snapped his head around with wide eyes, " What—"

"And the little geek who you've come to know and love was just an act to get close, to get intel more easily."

Tim turned to see the other three's reaction.

Gibbs betrayed no emotion as the other two frowned slightly as they listened.

" He was ordered to bring down anyone who threatened his cover, including his team. "

She continued, "And he was attempting to do so, as he brought you down here, an isolated room where no one could hear the ruckus of him assassinating you three. And I am also a german agent like him, who is here to clean up your dead bodies."

The women narrowed her eyes threateningly towards the trio, promising them something dark and violent awaited them in the near future.

Gibbs glared back at the mysterious lady with equal intensity. After staring fro a minute in silence, he then turned to Tim, then back to the lady.

"What if I told you that you have a talent of spouting a shitload of BS?"

The lady blinked in response, then broke out into a chuckled.

"I'll take it that you trust him?"

"Damn straight I do."

"And the others?"

Tony and Ziva stepped up, flanking Gibbs on both sides.

"I trust McGee."

"I trust the probster with my life!"

The lady gave the trio a good long look and smiled.

"Well, well McGee, you managed to make pretty darn good friends while you were here, huh?"

Tim blushed slightly.

The blond lady flipped her hair back and then placed her hands on her shapely hips.

"You do know he's going to kill you for involving outsiders."

Tim shrugged, " I needed new friends."

She looked offended, "What's wrong with us?"

"Seriously, Do I even need to answer that?"

Before the blond could retort, Tony interjected for Gibbs.

"Yeah-yeah-yeah, reunion with lady friend—ok, over with! Mind shedding some light on what the heck is going on now?"

The lady huffed in mild annoyance, " Well, to start with, you can call me Margret—which is not my real name, but I am known by that name among…_others._"

Gibbs rolled his eyes," Why am I not surprised?"

Margret waved off his comment.

" I don't think I really have the right to tell you about Tim, moreover Its his story to tell and not mine." She saw the protesting look in McGee's eyes and smirked, " It's not like I have the time anyways…"

Margret walked over towards the steel door and Tim stepped forward.

"Where are you going?"

"To deep dive again."

"Had enough of the sunlight already?"

"I promised him I'd report back after assessing your status."

"What's your really reason of being here Margaret?" McGee asked, " You usually—you never would come out into the public to just to tell me how stupid it was of me for blowing my cover."

"…"

"It wasn't to see if my friends could be trusted was it?"

"Yes Tim, it wasn't…"

"Then why?"

"…"

"…"

"Something happened…didn't it?"

"Code Red."

Tim went silent for a moment, " Is that the whole reason for all this chaos?"

"Yes."

"Do you know why?"

"…"

"…"

"…"

"Margret!"

Margret stepped through the door way, and before the door closed completely, she turned her head slowly revealing a grim expression.

"The Mocking Bird."

The trio turned to the youngest agent for an explanation, but they only saw him staring at the door with a horrified expression.


	6. The frozen egg part 1

A/N: Hey guys, sorry for the wait, schools been busy and all =p . Anyways, enjoy the physiologically damaging, blast to the past.

_The sound of sirens shrieked form the distance, chaos swirled in the air. Intangible words and cries muddled within the background, causing everything to blur. He didn't blink, not that he could anyways, but all he did was stare. From the corner of his eye he saw his left arm. He knew his arm was broken, because arms were not suppose to be contorted the way his was. Fortunately, the deafening ringing that radiated though out this head, numbed the sensation of pain he expected.._

"—_Oh my god! Oh dear god!"_

"—_Call 911!"_

"—_There are people still inside!"_

"—_MANNY! OH MY GOD, MANNY!"_

"—_MY DAUGHTER IS STILL IN THERE!"_

"—_WHERE THE HELL IS THE AMBULENCE?"_

_His vision blurred and the voices muffled, and his lids became heavy. Before he closed his eyes ,he caught a glimpse of a shadowy figure crouching next to him._

_Then it went dark._

…

…

…

…

…

"_Is this hi….he doesn't look…..explain."_

"_This is…..found him in…"_

"_I….Se…..do you…hahah!"_

"_Do tell, do tell…."_

"…_Waking up…"_

_He slowly opened his eyes, but quickly regretted doing so as the light spilled into his sensitive eyes. But after a few moments he opened his eye again and saw two blurs hovering over him._

"_He's perfect."_

_He blinks again._

"_Does he remember anything?"_

"_No, he shouldn't remember a single thing."_

"_Shouldn't?"_

"_Let me rephrase that—he does not remember anything."_

"_Do you think that he'll be the one?"_

"_Oh, most certainly."_

_The two blur disappeared as he closed his eyes.._

…

…

…

…

_He did not know when he started to follow the man in front of him, nor did he remember waking up. His mind was blank; a vast emptiness that echoed like the dark hallway they were walking through. The man in front of him stopped in front of a metal door and turned around._

"_Through the door you go"_

_He did._

_The room he entered was white, It reminded him of that white t-shirt he wore to see…to see—_

…

_Who was he seeing?_

…

…

_If he couldn't remember, than it probably wasn't important._

…

_White…_

…

…

…

…

"_Aim and shoot." the voice crackled._

_The object he held was smooth, cold, and heavy, like death. He stared at his hands, and then looked up to screaming person across the room. _

_Why was he screaming?_

"_Aim and shoot."_

_His finger twitched._

"_Aim and shoot."_

_How did he get here again?_

"_Aim and shoot."_

_He felt this arm begin to rise._

"_Aim—"_

_The person chanted a phrase, a desperate pleading phrase, a phrase he could not comprehend._

"—_and—"_

_He held the heavy object in the air steadily._

_The chanting sped up as did the pitch._

"—_shoot."_

…

…

…

_The bells rang in the air._

_Whistles tooted with the rhythm, a single ringing rhythm._

_With clap to the tune, a silent thudding rhythm._

_But the bells kept ringing_

_It's rhythmic sorrow tune._

…

…

…

_No matter how many times he tried, he was still cold. The constant chill that bit at his insides wouldn't warm. Not even the splatter of warmth he drenched himself in, it wasn't good enough. He poured it over himself, the warmth those screaming people spilled. It shouldn't go to waste. _

_Why didn't he have it?_

_It was a curious thing, but he couldn't figure._

_Sure, it warmed him for a few minutes, but it never lasted. _

_He needed more._

_He looked down at the stained object in his hands._

_It was cold too._

_But he didn't need to worry for long, because it always got him some more._

…

…

…

…

"_Hello mister mocking bird what will you sing?"_

"_Oh! A song of mine—of course not yours."_

"_You know you can't sing your own love—l y tune—because—you are—a mister mock-ing bird!"_

_He watched the young man in a white gown swaying to the rhythm of his song. Suddenly, the man paused and then turned around with a deranged smile. _

"_Oh hello there!" the young man stepped forward with open arms "And who might you be?"_

"_..."_

_The young man withdrew slightly, appalled with himself, "Oh my goodness, where are my manners!" _

_The young man dramatically bowed, " My name is number 23, it's a pleasure, and who might you be?"_

"_..."_

"_Don't tell me— you don't know your own name!"_

"…"

"_Well, let's find out now shall we?" Suddenly, 23 reached out and grabbed his arm, then turned his forearm, revealing a two digit number on his wrist, " Number 88 is it?" _

_Number 23 slipped his grip down into 88's hand, and then shook it._

"_It's a pleasure meeting you Mr. 88." He said with a sing-along tune._

_23 twirled away, and then walked away with a slight bounce in his heels, humming the tune of the song he sang previously._

…

…

…

…

_The shadows always let him here; the room behind the orange rusted, iron door. After warming up for a few hours, they left him in the room, the white room. He did not know how large the room was, nor did he bother to think about it for long. It wasn't because he didn't care, it was because every time he stared at the corners of the room, they disappeared. That's was how white room was._

_He didn't like it._

_He felt exposed._

_He felt his thoughts fade into the nonexistent white walls._

_He felt himself melt into the white nothingness._

_He felt cold._

…

…

…

…

_His bare feet came together, recoiling from the cold sleek floor._

_His toes curled in and out._

_The person sprawled across from his grew cold an hour ago._

_His crusted fingers clawed at his arms as he curled himself into a ball._

_He stared at the detached head._

_The dull brown eyes stared back at him with the same arctic vengeance as a snow storm._

…

…

…

_The birds knew when it would rain._

_He just wished he could too._

…

…

…

"_You're just like him."_

_88 turned to his companion with the best questioning look he could manage._

"_You know, like the Mr. Mocking bird." 23 turned his whole body to face his unexpressive friend._

_Every once in a while, the shadows left him to wonder around a pristinely white hallway, where he would meet 23. They usually talked about random things ranging from fingers to colors. 23 did most of the talking, where as 88 just stared, but 23 didn't seem to mind._

"_Haha! Well because you don't have a song to sing."_

"…"

"_A song you ask?" number 23 held up his index finger , "That is something I can not reveal until you find out yourself."_

_23 slipped on a cat like grin, " Didn't mean to tease."_

"…"

"_Not that I find you boring, please don't misunderstand!" 23 crossed his arms, " I find you very intriguing—full of fun and wonder."_

_Suddenly number 23 leaned closer into his face._

"_And by wonder—" his glassy eyes widened along with his grin, revealing a row of yellow stained teeth. _

"_Where did you lose yourself Mr. Mocking bird?_


	7. The frozen egg part 2

It was the little things he noticed; the evergreen that colored the grass blades, the crystal orb of the mildew that reflected the dull moonlight, and the slow moving droplets of blood that streaked down his target's…well…every where. It was the little things.

His eyes wondered around the still, cold body and observed his work.

It was messy.

"Father" said to make sure his target was left unidentifiable, and he certainty did. Maybe beyond to an extent. He felt a droplet of blood form at the tip of his finger. He wiped his hand on his already stained shirt.

Too messy.

Next time he should just cave in the face, or something along that line. He initially wanted to end things quickly, but his target put up a fight. He remembered the shouts and curses beneath him as he pinned down the man. He had thought of shooting him and finish the rest of the work in peace, but something within his frozen insides compelled him from doing so. He felt his fingers twitch as he reached for the mans face, and then he plunged his sharp fingers in the mans eye sockets. His fingers twirled slightly, digging in to the rubbery flesh as the man beneath him released an agonizing scream. It was frenzy of blood and shrieks. The tainted blood that pumped though his rotten veins screamed to rip— to tear apart everything letting madness soothe his conscious and purge any other emotions that existed only in the pure moment of adrenaline and visions of red and white oh the insanity the pure white insanity that tugged at his lips and widened his eyes with twisted joy and madness—he paused as he realized that all movement stilled beneath him. He saw what seemed to be like an explosion of red and chuncks of flesh scattered around him. The face—what was left of the face was unidentifiable, which meant he finished the job. He stood up, still in the haze of madness, and managed to step away from the body. He finally shook away the lingering emotion and observed what he had done. The body suddenly convulsed, which made him jump mentally, but it went still again. He stared at the body for few more seconds, wondering if it will do it again. But when it didn't, closed his eyes and retreated back into his mind, hoping to find that emotion, that delicate string of emotion he felt before.

It was an interesting feeling—not bad at all. It felt like a sudden release, a sensation of peace and relaxation; It was like all restrains of his body were released.

He wouldn't mind feeling it again.

"Hey Con m' man, ya done with—" the voice behind him stepped back, " Shit! Did somethin like explode or somethin?"

He turned around half way to see his brother behind him.

"Damn…what the hell did he do to piss you off?" his brother sauntered over next to him, "Well you did finish the job—kinda over did it…"

He shrugged.

"Anywho, Father ordered me to drag yer skinny ass back after ya were done." The brother motioned behind him, " C'mon, lets'a go."

He was given an assignment by _them_ to infiltrate the German Intelligence and collect vital info. As of now, he was lingering around the middle ranks of a powerful family that was connected to the German government. Since the middle ranks, or the "middle men" as they called it. They were responsible for most of the "Hits" or "take downs", He had to get his hands dirty. Not That he minded . The most beneficial thing about his position is that it didn't attract unwanted attention from the higher ups. He managed to slip through the tight security of the government and retrieved bits and pieces of information, relatively security and military.

He found himself in a familiar place he often had to visit as he followed a step behind his brother. The place was considered the headquarter of the family where other 'family' members also took resident. And where there was a family, a powerful figure stood among them—a father. He entered the looming white mansion that was ridiculously lavished with gold and other precious rocks. He continued though the winding hallways that was also decorated with portraits of the previous fathers. His brother started to glance over his shoulder every now and then as they made their way down the hall. It might have been strange from an onlooker's point of view, but they wouldn't have noticed that only one set of foot steps that could be heard.

They soon arrived at a looming pair of red oak doors engraved with intricate designs.

His brother gave the door a long look.

"What th' hell…?" his brother muttered angrily as he knocked on the door, " HEY PA, I BROUGHT CON!"

He then pushed the twin doors, and immediately a rush of warm air consumed them.

Father enjoyed surrounding himself with anything valuable and wasn't shy of showing it. The walls were painted white, mixed with grinded gold that sparkled from any point of view. Gold, silver, and other valuable gems and stones he didn't knew that existed, lavished heavily around the room. Back in the room sat a wide desk made out of teak, and behind the desk sat Father with a buffet spread. When Father saw him , a smiled spread across his face and he stood up with open arms.

"Conrad my boy!"he bellowed happily

As Conrad walked over, he w asimmediately bombarded by the smell of fried chicken and pork ribs. he saw dark yellow stains splattered across Father's shirt and grease glistening off of his protruding lips and chubby fingers, and few stray bits of food that stuck to his bloated cheeks. He felt his stomach churn from the smell and sight, but managed to bow his head slightly and greet:

"Father."

Father studied his blood stained shirt with his beady black eyes, "l take it that you dealt with the contractor?"

"Yes, and I burnt the documents along with the file as well"

"Excellent" He replied with a hint of twisted glee " You always meet my expectations and on"

He grabbed a drumstick off his plate and bite a chunk off , and then bellowed a hearty laugh.

"You my boy, are a valuable part of the family."

Conrad nodded again in silent thanks.

"Pa." His brother finally gritted out

Father's smile fell as he turned to him, "Jeon?"

"Where are Shation an' Brunt?" Jeons asked, " They were suppose ta be guardin' outside."

"No, I sent them with Aukes to deal with the Jarden Family."

"Then who th' hell's gonna be shootin' heads when someone tries to kill ya'?

Father stopped chewing and dropped the chicken bone he held.

"Are you implying that I can not take care of myself?"

Jenons eyes wided slightly, "N-no, that's not—"

"Are you saying I am weak?"

"No! No, no, no! I didn' mean to sound like I was disrespectin' pa, I was just worried an all. I'm sure ya blow thous-ands of brains out yer self, cause yer pa!"

"Damn straight I can!"

Jeon furiously nodded.

"You better watch your mouth, or you'll be joining Jason"

Conrad knew Jason, they weren't very close, but his demise was very unfortunate. Jason overstepped his boundary with father, which led him to the meat grinders, literally. He didn't know what they did with Jasons grinded remains, but the homemade steak that was served the following day looked pretty suspicious to him. But what would he know?

Conrad felt a tinge of pity towardr Jeon , so he diverted Fathers rage by commenting on the abundance display of food sitting infront of them. Not surprisingly, it worked. After calming the tiger, the two left the den in a hury.

"Che, jus worried bout pa an he goes swingin' his machete like that" Jeon muttered broodingly, "He's always prasin ya, 'ow bout me? I do thins right too!"

Conrad didn't respond, but casted him an apathetic gaze.

Jeon sighs and his soulder slumps " 'M sorry bro, I know you saved m' ass back there. Jus' stressed an all ya know?"

"…"

"Ya understand right? Being the contractor fer this family is ass shearin"

"…"

"But ya know that…" Jeon sent him a sheepish smile, " Don' misunderstand too Con, I know yer an important part of th' family. I 'preshiate what ya do man."

Conrad nodded slightly and slipped a ghostly smile.

He continued to listen to Jeon rambling on about his assignment from before hand, then parted ways in the ballroom. As soon as he left the ballroom, Conrad found himself wandering towards the west wing of the mansion; a poorly lit hallway that was never really visited by the others. He found it a little odd that Father never lavished this part of the room, but it wouldn't matter to him soon . He ran his finger slowly across the yellow stained wall until he founded what he wanted. There was a little seam that ran down the dead wall that was almost undetectable even to him—almost. He crouched down and guided his finger down the seam, and when he found what he was looking for, then he lightly knocked on the wall.

A small satisfied smile played across his lips.

There it was.

***Outside of the Mansion**

Jeon looked up at the light blue that colored the sky. He frowned.

It looked fake.

He hated the fact that he was looked down upon by his fellow brothers, even worse—his Father.

His frowned deepened.

He worked his ass off to climb up the brutal latter of the family, basically clawing his way deeper into the dirtiest part of hell. And no friends were there during his progression.

Except him.

Jeon's frown curled upward into a sentimental smile.

Conrad was one the newest part of the member, but made his way up the shitiest latter to his position in no time. Although Conrad had the right to treat him like shit because of his slow progression, he didn't .Conrad was one of those silent ones who never exceeded the daily quota of five words a day-but talking to father was an exception. Most of the brothers avoided talking to him because of the bloody record he dragged around, but he didn't care. Conrad never minded his presences and listened to his rants and woes without putting a bullet trough his head.

He was a good friend—

Suddenly he heard loud explosion thunder behind him, but before he could turn around he found him self flying across the grass field like a rag doll. A few seconds later he felt a wave of heat rushing over him with a hiss. A deafening sound of ringing bells filled his ears as he slowly sat up, but the ringing was nothing compared to what he saw.

The mansion was gone.


	8. Incubation part 1

(A/N): I'm so SORRY I didn't know people actually read this…how long has it been? How long? Never mind, I don't want to know. Thank you for those who actually somehow for some reason enjoy readying this…if you're all still interested that is, but I seriously doubt it D: well here you go.

*By The way, for those who are very confused, the scenes go back and forth from past to present frequently without warning, so you might have to go back and read a chapter back or so if you get lost.

…

…

The pallid sky withered of its color, dirt brown and smoky grey smothering it's solemn blue. Puffs of toxic fumes reached towards the sky delicately, leaning sideways from the gust of wind. The crackles and shrieks of fire and people muddled together, no sense of order was found.

He watched the unfolding scene before him from afar, but not even a flutter of emotion touched his frozen insides. He stepped back and disappeared into the forest behind him.

…

…

"_Sing me that song—a song you sang that one time before. Sing me that song you sing when bodies drop and people cry in symphony of agony; the song that never ends. Dance with me around the rotting corpse— black and red it turns."_

Again that feeling.

Cold, cold, cold.

He felt numb.

"_Down the world will purge, down the world it goes—"_

He felt the dark hole in his insides grow, eating him away. He was rotting, crumbling into nothing more.

"_Here comes the mocking bird, black like death of plague. Here comes the mocking bird, hear the people scream!"_

He felt arms slither around his neck and hot moist breath against his icy skin.

"_Here comes the mocking bird…" a voice whispered possessively " Blood is every where…"_

Why was he so cold?

"_Here comes the mocking bird…"_ He felt fingers lightly rake down the tender skin of his neck, leaving trails of red streaks. _" Silence is finally here…"_

A soft sigh escaped his lips as his eyes fluttered shut.

Why?

"_Hahaha"_ The glassy eyes laughed lightly behind him, sparkling with hidden insanity. The fingers dug deeper into his skin, drawing blood.

"_Your mine little bird."_

He was still cold.

…

…

It was oddly pleasing the eyes; red on white. The splatters along the wall just complimented the plainness. He felt a strange: all sound was watered down into almost complete silence , his vision was a bit blur, and a pleasant sensation of light airiness confined his mind as he continued to walk mindlessly down the hall…which he had no recollection of how he got there in the first place. He was vaguely aware that he was staring at a blinking red light.

How pretty.

He reached towards the blinking lights but momentarily paused when he saw the same red on the wall on his own hand.

Hadn't he seen this color somewhere before?

Red…

Oh, that's right it was—

Time slammed into him like a violent wave, and the silence that once enveloped him was replaced with the sound of blaring alarms and shrieks. His awareness broke through the pleasant cotton fuzz and went into momentary shock from the sudden rapid activity around him. He found himself in a familiar hallway where he and the other 'inmates' were held. The wall next to him and more further down the hall, sustained gaping holes as if it exploded outward. He looked to the side and saw a couple of charred bodies sprawled across the floor, some beneath rubbles from the destroyed walls, and some missing a few limbs here and there. And he couldn't help but notice the musky sent in the air, from cooked fleshed of the poor victims that lied before him. He started down the chaotic hall that swirled with mud-red and smoke. As He continued down , he saw a couple of inmates still trapped within their room—prison was more like it. He heard them pounding against the steel doors and some clawing at it till their nails peeled and bleed, screaming as the fire burned around them. Still a little dazed, listening to the symphony of cries of agony and screams that was only heard in the darkest pits of hell, he continued walking.

...

…

…

_He saw a baby bird fall from its nest. _

_He walked over and picked it up from the ground and held the small innocent creature in his hand. _

_The black beady eyes stared into his green ones, and he felt something churn in his insides._

_It chirped._

_He clenched his hand..._

_Ah,_

_His hand was warm._

…

…

…

He didn't know how long he had been walking down the hallway for, but his vision seemed to have blurred a bit more. Maybe he injured his head some how?

"Would you look it that…" a voiced called out behind him. " One of them survived"

He started to turn towards the voice, but then a blunt object struck him from behind, turning his world black…

…

…

He awoke to hushed whispers dancing around his ears. His mind flickered in and out of consciousness, straining to listen to the light wisp of garbled words he heard around him, in his shrouded mind. His eyes were slightly cracked open, letting him see distorted shadow figures and various beams of lights. Suddenly, he felt his conscious being pulled back into the deep depths of the darkness. His grip finally slipped , he closed his eyes and down he went.

…

…

…

_He found himself standing in a white room, a place which reminded him of that room in which he despised, but something was different, as he wasn't alone. He turned around and saw a man standing before him; He seemed familiar to him some how, but he didn't know why. _

"_What color are my eyes?" the man asked_

_He just stared at the man in front of him. What was he talking about?_

"_Who am I?"_

_What?_

"_What color are my eyes?"_

_He looked into the stranger's eyes…_

_Green. Obviously, it was green._

"_Who am I?"_

_He didn't know who this man was, why did he ask?_

"_What color are my eyes?"_

_He looked into the man's eyes for a moment again and saw something familiar._

…

_Wait._

"_Who am I?"_

_It can't be._

_Can it?_

"_What color are my eyes?"_

_He felt a chilling sensation rip down his spine as he stared intently into the stranger's eyes and made a revelation._

"_Who am I?"_

"_Me."_

_The man's face swirled, pulled—tugged from every side, until finally morphing into his face._

"_No" his doppelganger said as he leaned forward, and then smirked "I'm the mocking bird."_

…

…

…

He gasped and snapped his eyes open, and was welcomed by the darkness which he found foreign. He sat upright and let a shaky sigh escape from his lips as he ran his fingers though his hair. He then looked around, trying to figure out where he was, but there wasn't much to look at; there was only the bed he was sitting on and nothing else. He suddenly had the feeling that he was forgot something, something important, so he closed his eyes, trying to recall that something from his hazy mind.

"I see that you are awake" a voice called out"

He snapped his eyes open and turned to the source of the voice. A women with flowing blond hair with piercing, cerulean blue eyes walked in from what looked like a door, which he happened to miss some how. He attempted to jump off the bed but failed to do so and realized that he was chained on to it.

"Please do not try to escape, we have no intentions of harming you" she said, then her eyes narrowed dangerously, "Unless you give us a reason to."

He stared blankly at her in response.

"I'll take that as a 'No I don't ' ", the lady walked over, but not close enough for him to make contact with her. "What's your name?"

"….."

"Do you remember anything about yourself?

"….."

"Do you know what happened?"

She crossed her arms.

"Did you lose your ability to speak, or are you just retarded?"

"….."

"I'm leaning towards retarded"

"….."

The two lapsed into silence.

The lady frowned in disappointment, as if she was hoping to elicit some kind of a reaction from the young man.

"Quite an expressive kid, huh?" another voice joined in.

A man with black slicked back hair with hazel colored eyes was leaning against the door. He wore a sleek, black, casual suit with a patterned blue tie. He looked young, but taller, so he assumed the man was a little older than he was. The newcomer held an aloof air around him, but also authority too.

"You try talking to him Alex." The woman growled irritated tone

"Now, now, is that how you treat your superior… Ellen?

The lady snapped her head around with a murderous glare in her eyes

"IT'S ELLIZABETH! E-L-L-I-Z-A-B-E-T-H!" she stepped towards Alex, "You know I hate it when you call me that. I hate that name."

"But I think Ellen is a beautiful name." Alex replied and ignored Elizabeth's retort, "But anyways…"

Alex walked up to him and took and started at him and he stared back.

Elizabeth tried pulling him back, "Alex, what are you doing? You don't know what he will do! Get back here!"

He sat next to him.

"Hi, name's Alex Hollander, nice to meet you." Alex said, and then smiled.

…

…

_What's this?_

_Is he smiling…at me…no…for me?_

_Why?_

_Why?_

_Why?_

_Why isn't he screaming?_

_Why isn't he running?_

_Why isn't he bleeding?_

…

_Should I kill him?_

_He's right there next to you, just snap his neck._

_But He's smiling._

_Pluck his eyes out and shove them down his throat._

_But He's smiling._

_Rip his jaw open and shatter his teeth._

_But He's smiling._

_Make him bleed._

_But He's smiling._

_Kill him._

…

…

Alex saw the young man had a dazed look in his eyes. He reached out to shake him, but stopped immediately when his counterpart turned his head towards him . Alex felt chills rip through his spines from what he saw; a light smile played across the young man's face, but it wasn't an ordinary smile, it was a smile that might have belonged to a man who lost his insanity. His green eyes swirled with something dark and sinister that no man should ever have. It was absolutely terrifying.

The young man slowly parted his lips and whispered

"Mister Mocking bird is here."


	9. Incubation part 2

_A/N: I'm a very^10 slow writer, I am very^10 sorry to who ever reads this. I do get things done though, I give you that. Anyways, enjoy my sad attempt to entertain you. TA-DA._

…

…

…

_There's no such thing as happiness, sings the Mocking Bird, sings the Mocking Bird…_

_There's no such thing as happiness, sings the Mocking Bird, sings the mocking Bird…_

…

A dark and misty haze settled upon his vision; everything was almost in a blur . He felt his conscious being pushed back; it was his insanity taking control. Suddenly the mist dissipated and everything was in motion; his eyes were erratic, darting around the room until it settled back on Alex again. His fingers twitched. His smile widened.

...

_Listen to death toil is rusty bells, hear it's sorrowful tone as bodies drop around you…_

_Rain turns black, bodies rot back and red—_

_Dance with me, Mr. Mocking Bird, Mr. Mocking Bird…_

…

His unchained hand suddenly flew towards Alex and grabbed him by the neck . He shoved him down on the bed, and straddled the man in one motion. He then began to tighten his grip around Alex's neck and dug his nails into the man's soft tender skin . He began to feel the crackling of the delicate bone around his hands. Alex began to struggle under him and heard him scream something he didn't bother comprehending. A light giggle escaped his lips.

Yes, that's right, scream.

Where's your smile now?

…

_Your sinister smile, spills virgin blood and the faithful…_

_Cries of horror of your name, pain and blood at your wake…_

…

A whirlwind of bloodlust swirled, entwined with the chaotic sounds of screams that rang in his mind. He saw snippets of black and red, the sky, a flock of birds, and bloody bodies. Static filtered though his ears, like a radio with no signal. Over the static, only a little voice was heard, a small distorted voice that whispered dark and twisted truths…maybe lies. Static.

…

_Mr. Mocking bird, Mr. Mocking bird…_

_Who are you Mr. Mocking Bird, you have the face of two , three, or infinity…_

…

He heard t a yell, horror oblivious in the voice. He saw a strands of golden hair flutter in the air, though everything was a blur, just her hair caught his attention from what was left of his conscious sanity. His surrounding began to pulse, and in every beat it increase its speed. He felt unbalanced; He was going to fall—no they were going to fall. What was in his hands again? A bird. Yes, that's right, a little bird. The little bird he held in his hands was going to drop if he didn't hold on tight. His grip tightened.

…

_Desecrate the dead, steal their faces, swipe their memories too…_

_Black blood run through your veins, no heart in place, death cries for you…_

…

He felt something tug at his hands, trying to pry grip off of the bird he held. No he wouldn't let go. He also felt the violent thrashing under him start to die down, he didn't know what it was. Suddenly a streak of gold and skin peach hovered before him, and what seemed to be like a hand, shot out and grabbed his shoulder, shaking him also tying to make him fall—make them fall. No, he wouldn't let go. He grabbed the hand and through it aside. He began seeing the bodies again, the static became louder, the whispers grew louder until they sounded like a hiss. The flock of birds.

To fly away

But to fall

Because he didn't know

Who he was.

The mocking bird he was, no flock will he ever fly with.

Yearning.

A wish to belong.

He suddenly felt a dramatic shift under him, then immediately felt his body fall to the side and this time, he couldn't stop himself. As soon as he hit the ground, he felt an explosion of pain on his abdomen that forced all the air out of his lungs. As he began sit back up, he saw two figures hover over him. one of them a coughed a few times and raised its arm, then his world went black.

…

_There's no such thing as happiness, sings the Mocking Bird, sings the Mocking Bird…_

_There's no such thing as happiness, sings the Mocking Bird, sings the mocking Bird…_

…

_***FLIPSIDE***_

Alex saw something snap with in the young man's eyes, but unfortunately had no time to react to his sudden attack. In one swift motion, his world was turned upside down, as he found him self straddled by his counterpart with his hands around his neck with a vise like grip. His hands were icy cold, like the dead; thin and fragile, yet somehow the hands around his neck had the strength that no man should possess, much less a dead one. He looked straight into the young man's eyes saw that they were deep emerald green, which swirled with something sinister and demented; insanity sparkled along side the dark irises that were almost lost within the darkness of his eyes. Alex felt the grip tighten around his neck and his lungs started to labor because of lack of oxygen. Nails dug into the soft flesh of his neck, drawing some blood and the grip continued to tighten. In the corner of his eyes, Alex saw Elizabeth coming to his aid. He managed to turn his head towards her direction, but in the cost of pain.

" GET BACK!" he choked out, "I CAN HANDLE THIS ON MY OWN!"

Elizabeth stopped in her tracks for moment, and then her face contorted in an irritated/panic expression and started towards them again. He winced as the grip tightened even more. He heard a giggle escape from above from the crazed young man that hovered over him. Alex looked back up at the man above him and froze from what he saw. Wide eyes, green ,but now some how almost black and with no sparkle of humanity, only insanity and bloodlust. His lips were peeled back, revealing his set of white teeth, it was no smile of joy or happiness. Dark matter of hate, sorrow, pain, and misery practically oozed out of every pore of the man on top of him, it some how made his heart clench. Elizabeth grabbed the man by the shoulder, trying to shake him off of Alex, but the young man, with his impressive strength, threw her aside like she was nothing. A small yelp escaped her lips a she hit the ground few feet away. As a response to his friend being in danger, something snapped within Alex and set his body in motion into overdrive. He grabbed one of the young man's left arm, that rested on his chest ,with both of his hands, brought his knees up and firmly planted them on the ground, and with one swift fluid motion, he pushed the man up and rolled him to the side. As soon as his counterpart was off of him and on the ground, he immediately elbowed him in the abdomen. Elizabeth ran over and helped Alex up, babbling between how he was and what the hell happened. Alex coughed a few times and touched his bruised neck, he looked down at the fallen man for a moment. Suddenly the young man groaned and began to sit up, Elizabeth shut her mouth and took a cautious step back. In a split second, Alex swiftly struck the man behind the neck, causing him to fall back unconscious.

"Goddamn…" Alex croaked. "What the hell did they do to him?"He resumed rubbing his abused neck and turned to Elizabeth."But, I guess that's your job to find out," he grinned.

Elizabeth crossed her arms and frowned."Is that the way you ask me to do something for you?"

Alex gave her 'The Look'."If you were expecting me to get on my knees and offer my ass to you as compensation— that's a no go." Her face contorted between anger and disgust, but she couldn't hide the little blush that powdered her cheeks. "but feel free to stare at my _fabuloso"_

"You're a narcissistic bastard, you know that right?"Elizabeth growled

"Oh no, I'm just guy with a very high self-esteem" he shot back.

Alex squatted next to the unconscious man and cocked his head to the side. "I'll take care of this guy while your do your stuff."

Elizabeth gave him a questioning look. " Are you going to kill or interrogate him?" Alex chuckled.

"Neither. I don't think he will respond to interrogation, seeing how he wouldn't say a word to you just a moment ago. And killing him wouldn't benefit us in any way," He looked down at man's face and realized how young he actually was. Innocence still lingered around young mans small and pallid face, only to be shattered when awoken by reality. His chocolate brown hair, which covered his eyes, lost it's sheen, giving off a dull glow. Dark bags hung under his closed eyes, and long eyelashes lightly hovered over them. His lips were pale pink and dry with dried blood smeared slightly across his face, his screams of insanity were only ever to pass those lips. Pity swept across Alex's eyes. "I'm going to take him in…as one of us."

Silence befell the room for a few seconds until Elizabeth screamed, " WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?" she ran up to him and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.

"I'm going to take him in—"

"Are you thinking straight? Did you see what happen just now or did that guy deprive you of oxygen for too long that you've become an idiot."

Alex laid his hand on her fisted hand that gripped the collar of his shirt and looked directly into her eyes. Both stared at each other in silence for a moment, Elizabeth's grip slacked, and then she finally let go. "You're really serious about this, aren't you?" she said in defeated tone "Right, okay sorry I'll get his background and all the other stuff—even when I think it's still a bad idea."

Alex's expression conveyed playfulness "That's my girl!"He stepped back, and dodged a painful slap.

"Shut up!" Elizabeth growled. "I'm not you girl." she started off towards the door and turned back, " If he wakes up and kills you, Im going to let your body rot from where you died!"

"I love you too!" Alex shouted back.

Elizabeth replied with a loud slam as she walked out the door.

"…"

Alex turned his gazed down toward to unconscious man on the floor for again, and then smiled confidently.

"You my good friend are going to become the greatest asset in our group…"

…

…

…

_Remember those days_

_Under the great oak tree,_

_We watched the golden ocean of grass,_

_Sweep across the land,_

_As the wind dance around us_

_In a delicate ballet for two._

_Pluck the leaf of one , two, three,_

_They flutter down very slowly,_

_Until they are free, free, free…._

_Remember those days _

_Under the great oak tree;_

_We saw a great mocking bird sitting silently,_

_Watching the others birds fly so high._

_The cloud, the wind, and the sky they had,_

_The mocking bird did not; all it had was a tree._

_It yearned to fly, fly so high…_

_It cried I want to be free, free, free…_

_Do you remember those days ?_


End file.
